The Half Breeds
by Octopus Ink
Summary: "It's the same old thing, you know, for the Hordes it's every man for himself in the end, and the Allies are too concerned with chivalry they wind up with a knife in their skull."  A story of two half breeds - a boy & girl, and a life changing adventure.


**A/N: So this is a story I started a year or so ago. I'm still not **_**totally**_** sure where I'm going with it, so be prepared for twists and turns! I will **_**try**_** to not take too long when it comes to updating, but I **_**am**_** in Grade Eleven so spare me!**

Chapter 1  
>Outsiders<p>

My brother and I were not of the Alliance. They would not accept us. My brother and I were not of the Horde. They too, refused us of their kingdom. There was nowhere to go, nobody who would welcome us…nobody…who didn't try to kill us.

"Ly, for the _billionth_ time, they won't see it as murder, they'll think they're doing a…a civic duty!" I shouted, splashing water on my face.

"Then how do _you_ propose we find something to eat?" He shot back, clearly annoyed.

"I don't know, maybe we can sneak some food off a nearby village."

"Well, if you ask me," he began, _again._ "I say we just go into Stormwind and buy some bread."

"What did I just say? They'll have an arrow through our heads the moment they see us."

Lysander and I were the most frowned upon race in Azeroth…which was no race at all. We were what they called 'half breeds'. As if we were some kind of animal, not worthy of the title of a person. I was half night elf, half troll, Lysander was half human, half blood elf. We were not actually brother and sister, but had miraculously found each other when we were both very young, and stuck together. Our mothers and fathers had abandoned us of course; our mothers would have been enslaved by the other, I was not entirely sure about my mother, but for Lysander it was easy to tell that his mother was a blood elf. Unfortunately, we both predicted my maternal race was Alliance; it wasn't that we did not like Alliance, but if our theory was true, I feared we could turn against each other, if he felt more comfortable around the Horde, if I Alliance.

"Adde!" He snapped me out of it.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Let's just try."

Sighing, I agreed. "Fine."

On our way to the city, trembling, I might add, I tried to figure out how long we would last before someone figured out 'what' we were. Lysander was tall, and had a slender build like a blood elf, with sensory eyebrows and ears also. But unlike blood elves, he did not have the silky hair that was rich in colour; he had dark, dusty hair that tangled easily and covered his eyes (that did not glow like an elf's) frequently. He was not graceful, but moved sturdily like a human and was not light on his feet; making him so easily detectable that his chances of being a rogue were like asking an Orc to be a priest. Like Lysander, I also took most of my appearance from my mother and my movements my father. I could sneak around, and I guess I could say I was stealthy, and my moves were quick. But I was not strong, and if I was in hand to hand combat I had to do as much as I could while I had my energy or I would be finished. I wasn't really sure what I looked like, the odd reflection in the water or swords, or perhaps if we were lucky at a mirror in the inn, I could catch a glimpse. I knew I had dark purple skin, and off-white hair (the lightest shade of purple), and was also tall, but scrappy. I thankfully did not have tusks – which would have been my worst nightmare, but I did have the face shape of my father, long and sharp, and my face and features were that of a Night Elf. Eyes that could glow and see in darkness, long nose and ears. I wouldn't say I was beautiful, like most female Night Elves. Ly said I was beautiful for a troll, but average among Night Elves. Unlike him, who was stunning beyond all reason whether you were an Undead or a Gnome.

"Here we are." He said quietly, as we ducked behind a tree.

We covered his face with a Draeni helmet we found from the nearby graveyard, and I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head, only making my Night Elf eyes visible.

"Let's go," I breathed, though I wasn't sure.

As I saw his hand was close to his sword, I did the same, though I had a dagger. I had purchased the dagger, it wasn't of great quality so it wasn't very expensive, and I had made more silver from it then I had spent on it. Lysander on that other hand, well, we found his sword by a river a few years ago. It was just sitting there, in the grass, in its sheath. The blade is long, sharp, like any other sword, but the handle is different. On the end is the head of a griffin, and an emerald is embedded inside. At first we considered trying to get it out so we could sell it, but we had no luck. The other part of the handle is thick and heavy, I don't know how he can hold it with one hand. It is quite beautiful.

As we walked over the bridge, nobody eyed us suspiciously. A few nodded to us as they passed by, and the guards just watched us pass by them, as they did everybody.

There were two options: Go into a shop with huge crowds, and barely be noticed, but risk that if we're found out we are surrounded by people who would want to kill us. The other option was a small shop, with more privacy and less people to see through us, but we may look more suspicious.

We decided to go with the second choice, and found a greasy bakery not far from the cathedral, which had a hiding place underground. A middle aged human man was wiping down the counter, and smiled as he saw us walk in. "An' whot can I get fo' you two?"

"Bread." I said quietly, hesitating to sit down at the counter.

"Oh, we've go' oll kinds o' bread, luv. The question is what do you wont? And for heaven's sake sir, you can take off yo' helm, we aren't hiding swohds under tha tables!" He laughed raspily.

"No thanks, I like wearing it."

"Does it keep yo' head warm?" He roared with laughter, punching himself in the gut.

"We'll have three quarters of the honey wheat rolls and two slices of the pound cake." I interrupted angrily.

"Awright, no need to get hasty, luv." He stopped, draping his rag over his shoulder.

As we finally at down, the man gave hour order to the baker and watched us precariously, especially Lysander.

"What's yo' names?" He asked.

There was no point lying, so I didn't hold back. "Addelaide."

"Lysander."

"Well, Miss Addelaide, what 'cho playin at bringin tha blood elf inta Stohmwind?"

My hand instantly went to my dagger, and was ready to pull it out. "He is not a blood elf." I could I already see Lysander's position; prepared to fight if needed.

"I fink I know a Horde when I see one, he's got the body of a blood elf. He's too skinny to be a humin, and too short to be a noight elf." He paused. "Unless of corse'…" another pause. "Naw."

"What," I pressed, worried, though I probably shouldn't have.

"Nah, you don' see any o' them. Mos' die befoh they even tin years ol'."

"Any…what?" Lysander asked, though we both knew what he was talking about.

"Hof' breeds." He muttered, his back to us. "Sometoimes I wish I've met one. Now _that_ would be a story to tell. But you con't be one o' them, you wouldn't hav' got past the guards, then again…"

I couldn't believe my eyes – Lysander took off his helm. "I'm a half breed. So is she. You got a problem? Solve it. There's nothing wrong with us." He shot.

The man wiped at his brow, and spat the flakes off his beard. "Really…how old are you?"

"Sixteen." We replied, he didn't seem to hate us.

"And what are you? Hof human, hof blood elf?"

Lysander nodded.

"And hof night elf, hof…?"

I wavered. "Troll."

"Ah. My great grandfather…was killed by a tro-"

"So what? You going to punish her? For something she didn't do? For a crime a person that she only half resembles did?" Lysander cut him off. "You bring up the unnecessary, if you aren't going to do anything about it, don't speak of it."

I nodded at him in thanks, and he nodded back.

"It's the same old fing you know, nobody win the battles, for the Horde it's every man for 'imself in the end, and the Alliance is too bloody concerned wif' chivalry that they wind up with a knife through their skull. Nobody want to see reason. It's Horde vs. Alliance, no matter who meet who. I don' have a problem wif hof breeds. It's not like they did what they did on purpose."

"And what would 'that' be?" I demanded.

"Be a hof breed."

"And is that such an offense?"

"You don' get it, do ya Miss Addelaide, if yo' a hof breed, you ain't on either side. Both sides see you as the enemy, because you are. Hof their enemy, at least, but they don' care. If you aren't fully wif them they'll blast you with magic faster than you can drink a glass of Arfur Toffeeblock's wine."

"Honey wheat and cakes." The baker came out, dropping a basket of baked goods in front of us, completely oblivious to Lysander, walking back into the kitchen."

"That'll be fifteen silvah, luv." He said, holding out his hand.

I reached into our miniscule bag of change, and pulled out his request. "That's awfully expensive."

"Tell you whot. Since you gave me the memory of meetin' a hof breed, I'll give ya a discount. Twelve silvah."

Lysander slammed down fifteen. "We are normal people. We will pay the price as everybody else."

He snatched my arm and was dragging me out, barely letting me grab the basket, after he rapidly put on his helmet.

"Ly! We could have saved our money!" I snapped.

"And leave him under the opinion that half breeds accept pity and act as if they are special and need more attention than everybody else? I don't think so."

"Who cares what he thinks! We could have bought some milk with that silver!"

He stopped walking and released my arm. "I don't want him, or anybody in that matter to remember us as the people who weren't willing to pay a much because of their sense of entitlement. Do you want them to see us as beggars, Adde? Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not but-"

"But nothing. If we do what that guy suggested, and only pay a limited amount, they'll see us as beggars. Then they'll treat us like beggars." He started walking towards the Harbour. "Now let's go somewhere else."

"And this," a sweet, caring voice said. "is the square's bakery, known for its delicious pound cake."

Lysander and I turned to see a woman twice our age leading twelve or thirteen young children around the square.

"Must be the orphans," I whispered to him.

"Ms. Nightingale, who are they?" A little girl pulled on the Matron's dress.

"Remember what I taught you about the soldiers of the Alliance? That girl is a Night Elf, by the looks of it she's a druid, and that boy is a…um, he's a human. A human warrior." Though she had doubt in her eyes while we quickly walked away.

As we approached the harbour, nobody else took us into question nor when we were on the ship to the Eastern Kingdoms. At least until dinner.

The pound cake was very rich, and filling, heavy too. But it had failed to exceed my expectations after hearing what the Matron said. The bread on the other hand was flaky and scrumptious, I wish we had bought more.

"Good bread," Lysander said as we finished, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"Where are you two going?" Someone said.

We turned. That someone was a Draeni, wearing the underclothes of that of a Death Knight.

"We'll head up past Duskwood. Stranglethorn Vale is just a death zone if you aren't high enough skilled." Lysander replied.

"What would you say your rank is?" He asked, pulling up a seat.

"The last time I checked with the Paladin Trainer," Lysander began again. "He said I was a seventy. My sis is the reason we gotta head north though, she's only about sixty four."

"Your sis?" He scoffed, he could tell we were obviously completely different.

I could tell he instantly regretted his words. "Yes, my sister, um, we're meeting her in Booty Bay. This girl I just met on the ship a few hours ago."

"But you implied that it was the two of _you_ when you said you'd head up to Duskwood," he questioned.

This guy was really on to us. "Well, he meant his sister and him, obviously. I'm going to stay in Booty Bay for a while." I said shakily.

"Really, that's interesting. Well I'll see you then, I'm staying there for a while now too." He smiled. "Why don't you take off your hood?" He pointed at Lysander. "And you, your helm."

I gulped. We needed to work out your stories better in the future, if there was a future.

"Listen," he said. "I saw you two board together. "I know what you are, and why you're leaving."

"You do?" Lysander quavered.

"Of course! I'm not an idiot!" He pulled a bottle of wine from his satchel and picked out the cork with his pocketknife.

"Well, we know we aren't exactly accepted by everybody, but we're glad you're seeing reason…" I began.

"I know what you mean. Just last week the same thing happened to me. I even considered it for a moment, but-"

"Wait, what 'are' we, exactly?" Lysander cut in.

"You're engaged! And now you're eloping. But trying to keep it a secret by pretending you are distant brother or sister or something."

"WHAT?" I started to protest, but Lysander cut in.

"Yes, that's exactly right."

"The marriages between different races are pretty rare these days. Like, just a week ago this beautiful Night Elf walks by my door, I consider marrying her and eloping to Darnassus with her. She rejected my offer, though, of course. Of course, that's nothing compared to Horde/Alliance marriages. Not like that ever happens anyway."

"Yeah." Lysander laughed, though only I could sense the relief in it. "Most girls aren't really into marrying another race, especially when they don't really know you."

"_Tell_ me about it." He said. Then he looked at us. "Would you like some of this wine? It's the honey flavor from Toffeeblock's. I picked it up just today."

"Sure," I said, slurping some. It was actually full of flavor, and quenching.

"It's delicious!" Lysander said, as he took some.

"Isn't it?" He beamed, taking it back. "My name is Gumn'k. Last name is Sails. How about you?"

"Lysander Birthhold."

"Addelaide," We shared our last name, but obviously I would not give it to him. He didn't notice.

"Isn't that a boy's name?"

"I guess, I didn't exactly name myself."

And I didn't. The first person who took care of me was a Night Elf Woman, who couldn't tell I was half troll at the time, and lived in Shattrath City. She kept me until I was six, I vaguely remember her. But soon, I guess she started to see that I was different from the other Night Elf children. She probably took me to a doctor, which I think she did, and they would deliver her the news that would cause her to abandon me in the Lower City forever, in fact, I'll never forget it.

"_But where are we going mummy?" I stumbled, looking up at her, as she yanked me along, barely holding onto my hand._

"_Shut up."_

"_But I'm cold! We haven't had breakfast yet." I whined some more._

"_You know what? Here is far enough."_

_Looking about, I frowned. Nobody was here yet, the shops were closed."But mum, where are we?"_

"_I am _not_ your mother! You filthy half breed!" She screeched, pushing me onto the ground._

_I looked up into her once loving eyes, that were now cold and soulless. "But-but…" Tears rolled down my cheeks._

_Spitting on me, her voice was broken and dark. "I will never," her face hardened completely. "I repeat, never be the mother… of a child with the blood of a Horde."_

"_But I'm not a Horde mummy! Hordes are the bad guys!"_

_She turned away, leaving me on the pavement._

After that, I remember sobbing endlessly as I tried following her back, crying and repeating that I wasn't a Horde, and her telling me to leave. I never thought a woman could be so horrible, even to a small child. But that was her, and I guess he felt people would hate her too if she cared for a half breed. Anyways, she had named me Addelaide, and back then my last name had been Windgrass. I had no desire to keep my last name of my despicable 'mother', and Lysander agreed to share his. Lysander's history was quite different than mine, as his actual mother had cared for him until he was eight years old, until she abandoned him as well, leaving him a letter, which Lysander burned, but the words burned in his heart forever, as he could still recite it to me when we met.

_To the boy I wish I could call my son,_

_I am leaving you because if I keep you we will both die, but if you go on your own people may spare you, if you are just a child. Now, they may spare my reputation as well. _

_The thing is, you are what they call a half breed. You are half Alliance. A time ago, hundreds of Horde females were taken prisoner, I was one of them, and you were born. Your father was a human. Half breeds are hated by society, and as you appear mostly like a blood elf, people will still sense the human half of you. Do not go to the Alliance, and stay away from the Horde. You may live._

_From Rayna Birthhold, your 'mother'_

_Remember your name – Lysander, named after a great king of the Blood Elves_

The letter did reveal his mother's name, but when taken to find out who she was it was discovered that there was no Blood Elf named Rayna Birthhold, and it was a fake name so he would never find her. He even tried to learn about who he was named after, but there also was no king named Lysander, which was strange. After all, who would lie about that? For some reason, she had wanted him to make sure he knew his name was Lysander, and that it stayed that way, but wouldn't let him know the real reason why. Also strange.

"Addelaide?"

"Adde!" Once more, I was snapped out of it.

"What?" I asked.

"We've docked. Come on."

"I hope you have a great wedding, and perhaps I shall see you again." Gumn'k bid us farewell.

"Uh huh." We lied through our teeth, mounting ourselves, getting ready to leave Booty Bay without any further questions.

"It's odd, I never did see your faces, how shall I recognize you?" He asked, stopping us once more.

"You won't have to, we'll recognize you." Ly said firmly, and then took charge.

"Yes, I suppose so…" I heard him say in the distance, though it sounded as though he doubted his words.

I listened to the sound of my Nightsaber's paw's pound on the ground. He was a stray; of course, I had found him as Ly had found his battered Hawkstrider. But there was something about the sound that mesmerized me. Like rain slapping against leaves, or the spray of the sea. It was different, and most people didn't notice it. It was just something else in the world that was an extra, nothing special. They could almost take it for granted, I could say. But when you have so little, like me, everything is something beautiful.

"Adde! Watch out!" I heard Lysander's frantic voice shoot back at me.

Looking ahead, were seven fully armed Hordes and Allies, with two of each who had stopped fighting and were charging right towards us.


End file.
